Page 27 of The Liar I Married
I push a cup of coffee in front of him with two sugars and cream just as he likes it. “I never see you lately so this is the only time I’ll get a chance to speak to you.”
“Okay.” John’s blue eyes move over me and his lips twitch into a sardonic smile. “So what’s this all about? Do you want a divorce?”
His words shock me and it must show on my face. “Do I have a reason to ask you for a divorce?”
“Well, considering you’ve been sleeping in the spare room for the last two months, I figure something must be up.” He leans back in his chair; one hand rests on the table the manicured fingers drumming. “It’s hardly a friendly environment, is it?”
I raise my eyebrows and stare at him. “I moved into the spare room because I couldn’t stand not feeling you on the opposite side of the bed. You’re never home and I didn’t even know until Michael told me that you had an apartment in Manhattan and you stay there frequently overnight.”
“I honestly didn’t think you’d be interested in what I do overnight.” He shrugs and looks past me through the window and then turns his gaze slowly back to me. “FYI, I’ve taken on a number of international portfolios and it means I need to take phone calls at all hours of the night. Up to this week that is, I managed to convince the boss to hand them over to the unmarried partner. I told him it was not working out for us with me away all the time. He actually agreed. So if you don’t want a divorce what’s on your mind?”
I sip my coffee and look at him over the rim. It’s hard to believe he’s been at work all day. Apart from his tie, which he loosened when he sat down, he doesn’t have a hair out of place. His clothes never have a wrinkle. I’ll never understand how he does it. “Do you recall me mentioning that someone has been following me?”
“Vaguely.” John grasps his cup, his large hand dwarfing it. “Why?”
I shake my head. “You know why, John. There are two different men and two different vehicles. It’s been going on for a long time and not one of them has tried to hurt me or cause me any problems. I’ve spoken to a number of people about this and they all come to the same conclusion.”
“Which is?” John places his cup on the table and his mouth flattens into a straight line.
I smile at him, as if I’ve caught him in a lie. “That they’re private detectives, and you likely asked them to follow me because you believe I’m having an affair. I’m not sure why you would think such a thing but it’s the only explanation.” I lean forward and stare at him. “Are you having me followed?”
“Of course I’m having you followed.” John slams his fist down hard on the table. “You showed at my office with another man. You’ve been out to lunch with him, you meet him at the art studio.” He leans forward, his eyes boring into me. “You’re sleeping in the spare room. What do you expect me to believe? I need to know the truth because, as sure as hell, I’ll never get it from you.”
I jerk back as if he’s slapped my face. “I’ve explained why I’ve been sleeping in the spare room and Alex is a friend I met at the art studio. He is nothing more than a friend, which you would have discovered by now.” I point a finger at him. “You were never home and that’s why I joined the art studio because I was lonely and sick of listening to the gossip at the tennis club. That doesn’t mean I went out and had an affair with the first man I met. Another thing, you can’t pick my friends and whether they’re male or female is irrelevant. I can assure you, there is no attraction between me and Alex. He’s more like a brother to me.”
“I figured you were getting back at me because of Rebecca.” John sips his coffee and his eyes dart back and forth. “I know you’re jealous of her.”
Heat rises from my neck and up into my cheeks. “Why would I be jealous of her? I’m the one married to you. Or have you done something you’re ashamed of? I’m sure there’s something in your contract of employment that prohibits you from having affairs with your subordinates.”
“I could talk to you until I’m blue in the face and you’d never believe that I wasn’t having an affair with Rebecca.” He dashes a hand through his hair. “I know we spend a lot of time togetherbut I’ve only ever once gone to her apartment, and she’s never come to mine. I’ve never given her the address.”
I snort, suddenly finding what he was saying hilarious. “At least she knows you have an apartment. I guess telling me slipped your mind, huh?”
“It’s irrelevant.” John shrugs. “The company purchased it for me because it was cheaper than living out of hotel rooms. I’ve set up an office there, so I can work overnight and catch some sleep in between. That’s not something I can do at work.”
If he’s lying, he’s covering up very well. I can’t spot one iota of guile in his expression. “They gave you a Manhattan apartment? I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s a tax write-off.” John smiles. “I’d be stupid to refuse. It’s a good investment.” He stretches his hand across the table and his warm palm closes around my fingers. “I’ll call off the P.I.s if you move back into our bedroom. I’ve been sleeping alone for the last few months and I don’t want to do it in my own home.” He looks at me and his eyes soften. “I love you. Let’s put all this behind us and start afresh.”
He looks so genuine but then he has that charm that can convince anyone of anything. He would have made a great car salesman but he hasn’t convinced me he isn’t involved with Ms. Lawson. I refuse to think of her as Rebecca. When he uses her name, the way it rolls off his tongue sounds too intimate. “I love you too but you’re making it hard to keep forgiving you, John.” I narrow my gaze at him. “Don’t you understand how I feel? Not telling me about the apartment makes me feel irrelevant but I’m glad you’ve admitted to having people follow me. I wish you’d told me the day I called you. I’m sure you can’t imagine how terrifying it is, believing that someone intends to do you harm. You could have stopped that immediately but you didn’t. Call off your goons and then I’ll move back into our bedroom.” I pull my hand from his grasp. “Goodnight, John.”
My legs tremble as I climb the stairs, and inside my room I lean against the door. All the time I’ve been terrified someone was following me, John knew I was scared, and did nothing. He was more intent on finding some dirt on me than my well-being. A husband is meant to be your best friend, and yet I’ve found more compassion and friendship from a stranger than I ever have with John in all the time we’ve been married. Although I have to admit, he’s changed since my inheritance. I’m starting to believe it’s the only reason he married me. Although we survived the first few rough years when it was obvious he couldn’t settle down with one woman, he had changed for the better until Ms. Lawson came into our lives. I’m not stupid, and even a blind person can see how much he admires her. The way he looks at her is the same way he looked at me once and his fascination with her is even more evident in the photographs on her social media pages. Now he’s changed again. It’s as if he realizes I might be worth my weight in gold after all.
THIRTY
NOW
My head is muddled, and my mouth is so dry my tongue sticks to the roof. I grab the bottle of water on the bedside table and empty it. As the water gushes down my throat, my head starts to clear. The conversation Dolly had with someone on the phone comes back with crystal clarity and so is the memory of speaking to Alex. He would come by later and I’ll ask him about what happened before the accident and what we did together, in the hope it might jog my memory. I can’t stop thinking about the note that Maria gave me, telling me not to trust anyone. Who sent it and how did they know what was happening to me? If they cared enough to leave a warning, why hadn’t they tried to stop Dolly and John?
Nothing is making sense right now. I climb out of bed and reach for my walker but I’m getting stronger now and don’t need it so much. I lift up the top of the seat and see the camera inside. I grab my clothes, drape them over the walker, and head for the bathroom. This time I lock the door. The camera is small and fits in my palm. I turn it over staring at it with contempt. Has Dolly been recording my every move and my emotions to use against me? The idea sickens me. Dammit I trusted her. I look around but there’s no suitable place to hide it, so I wrap it in toilet paperand flush it. It’s satisfying to see it vanish into the sewer. I spend a long time under the shower, the flow of water helps remove the residue fuzziness in my head. Once I’m dressed, I sit on the seat of my walker to dry my hair and apply makeup. Surely if I wasn’t in control of my faculties, as everyone is trying to make me believe, I wouldn’t care what I look like, would I?
I don’t want to eat alone, so make my way slowly to the kitchen, where I find Maria making breakfast. I don’t have any reason not to trust her; in fact, she might be my only ally in the house. I sit down with a steaming cup of coffee before me. I’ve chosen a seat where I can watch the door and, as Maria busies herself making hot cakes, I try to act casual. “Have you discovered anything more about that note that you found addressed to me?”
“Only this morning. I was going to tell you when I brought you your breakfast.” Maria turns to look at me over one shoulder. “I doubt you would know but many of the gardeners lost their jobs when your grandmother died. So they don’t tend the gardens daily as before. I spoke to the one who gave me the note this morning. He said it was your brother Michael who gave him the note and asked him to leave it on the table.”
Unable to believe my ears, I stare at her. “But Michael isn’t here. He’s overseas. When was the note left for me?”
“It was the week before you regained consciousness.” Maria’s eyebrows met in a frown. “I kept it in my pocket because the gardener said it was to go to no one else but you.”
